Like Is A Good Starting Point
by syrrah
Summary: There's a new girl in the school, and the boys are swarming all over her. How can Edward get her attention - persuade her that he's different to all the others? He can tell her he just wants to be her friend.
1. Chapter 1

Characters owned by Stephenie Meyer

I'll check this tomorrow. It's 2.30 am. Yawn.

**Like Is A Good Starting Point**

_I know I stand in line until you think you have the time to spend an evening with me_

Bella Swan is popular, there's no doubt about it. There's no reason she should even notice me, with all the guys hanging around her like they do. When she turned up on her first day, I honestly thought "Well, she's nothing special", although now I could cringe at the memory of my dismissal. She has long hair - so do all the girls. She's very pale - here we're all pale. She's skinny - a lot of the girls are skinny, and to be honest, it's not my preference. I'd like to give her a big bowl of pasta, amongst other things. She could suck spaghetti up off my abdomen, and then... I'd better stop with the lurid fantasies. It's not like anyone in school could possibly read my mind, but God knows what sort of stupid slack-jawed expression I've got on my face right now. Clean your act up, Cullen.

I was busy ignoring her for as long as I could after my initial assessment, which was "vapid, ordinary, dull". I caught her staring at me in the lunchroom though, and presumed she was checking everybody out, one by one. There would be a race to get to her, I knew that, but I wasn't going to be at the starting line. I don't ask girls out. Anyway, it looked like Newton and Crowley would be the first contenders, from the way they were hovering over her.

Then it turned out she was in my biology class, and good old Banner put her next to me. She was shyer than I expected, after the blatant staring at lunch. She put her head down and let her hair fall over her eyes, which as I understand it, is classic girl body-language for either "You're kind of interesting" or "Don't speak to me, can't you see I don't even want to look at you?" I don't speak girl well enough to know which it was.

Anyway, as predicted, she dated Newton first. They went to the movies. From the utter lack of braggage that came out of his mouth the next day, I gather nothing had happened. They certainly weren't smirking secretly at one another as though they had made out.

Then Crowley apparently asked her somewhere, and the same thing happened. Or didn't happen. No hand-holding, no surreptitious looks, no touching.

After that, she seemed to just accept group invitations. Parties, gangs getting together to see bands, that sort of thing. I'm not in any of the gangs, I'm clique-free, so I wasn't in on any of it. She and I had to partner one another for an hour of Bannerhell twice a week though, and I couldn't work her out at all.

She'd been in an extension class in her previous school, so she was bright, and I'm the top student, so that must have been why Banny put us together - he'd thought she could keep up with me. Well, she certainly could and the two of us realized it after about week three. We got on very well, biologically speaking. Ha! Other than that we couldn't seem to talk. I tried once or twice but my conversational overtures were so lame she never seemed interested in talking back to me. I saw her chatting away with other people, and reports started to filter back that she was funny and engaging and cool but not _too_ cool, and apparently she was everybody's favorite flavor of the month. I started to become intrigued and I just couldn't see why she and I couldn't talk. Everything was awkward, everything was weird, and my sister was trying to give me love advice.

"Look, I'll speak to her, and get to know her, and I'll tell her you don't have three heads," Alice said.

"Obviously I don't have three heads, Alice," I snorted. "And why would you tell her anything?"

"I know a crush when I see one. You are stricken with loving feelings hampered by romantic ineptitude, Edward, but I will be your savior," she answered.

"Leave me alone, and leave her alone. You can't make friends with someone with an ulterior motive like that. It's insincere and monstrous," I told her.

"Okay, I'll make friends with her just for myself and you can go on floundering. Enjoy being Lonely Guy."

Then there was some party at someone's place and I wasn't actually invited but Alice was and I tagged along, and there was Bella squished on a couch next to yet another guy gazing at her looking like the moon shone out of her eyeballs and I just though "Okay, Cullen, why bother? Why fucking bother?"

I went outside for a smoke and I was standing on the porch contemplating leaving when a voice beside me said, "Those things will kill you."

It was her. I'd heard her often enough in class, right next to me, this close.

"What things?" I asked.

"Those things, you dope," she said, indicating my cigarette. "You know what they do to you, don't you? They constrict your blood vessels, for a start, which interrupts the flow of oxygen and nutrition around your body, they - "

"Thank you for your edification, Dr Swan. I shall cease forthwith," I said, and stubbed the offending item out on the porch rail. "What are you doing out here?"

"Oh, it was just getting a bit _close_ back there, you know what I mean?" she answered with a sigh. "I don't know what it is about this town. Back where I came from, I was just one of the kids. Here, it's like I've taken Jessica Alba pills. All the guys are all over me. I can't take a step anywhere without some fool tripping over his own eagerness to make a fuss of me. It was fun for about a day, but I'm really over it now."

"Mmm," I nodded, sympathetically. If she thought anyone displaying an interest in her was a fool, I was keeping my mouth shut before I blurted something I'd regret, like asking if she wanted to go roll around kissing in the back of my car. Nope, I wasn't going to say it.

"Do you know, you're practically the only guy in school who hasn't hit on me?" she continued.

It was quite dark out there, and I frowned, turning to look at her. "You're safe with me," I assured her, the word "Liar" being screamed out somewhere in my brain accompanied by a snigger, because I was coming up with an idea. I could suggest a totally platonic friendship. What I could possibly hope to gain from it was... her trust? And then...?

_And if we go someplace to dance I know that there's a chance you won't be leaving with me_

"Let's be friends. You and me. You wanna get out of here? We could go to a club and listen to some music if you like, to christen our friendship," I offered, and to my surprise she nodded.

"Yeah, that would be kind of nice," she said. My lucky night. Don't blow it, Cullen.

I took a huge gamble, really. We could either go somewhere I knew she'd already been, because the school grapevine is so reliable that I know practically every time she'd ever sneezed, never mind where people have taken her. Or we could go the a hole-in-the-wall place I know about where no-one from school would dream of going. I picked the latter.

It's a swing club, and it's deeply uncool because they play old-time, big band stuff. There are twelve players in the band, and they're all over a hundred years old. The singer is an old trout who I reckon probably saw off her centenary twenty or thirty years ago. They have brass and a rhythm section and they play classics from the thirties and they're brilliant.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Bella asked, looking around and seeing we were the youngest people in there. The venue isn't even licensed because obviously, all the old folks can't mix alcohol with the cocktails of pills they're all on for their age-related ailments.

"Is this okay?" I asked, feeling a little anxious now, wondering if I'd done something far too left-field, but she shook her head. The band were bobbing their silver heads and getting down with their ancient bad selves, and dear old Irina, the vocalist, had coughed the cobwebs out of her throat and was in fine voice, sounding like a crackly AM radio all by herself.

"This is _awesome_!" Bella enthused.

"Really?" I asked. "Would you like to dance?"

"Oh, God, I am the crappest, most graceless dancer you could meet in a month of Sundays, but I'll give it a go," Bella grinned, and we danced. Well, I danced. She was hopeless, but I held on to her, in a platonic way, and pulled her around the dance floor with me, dodging the old biddies who were partnering each other because I guess once you get to their age there's a shortage of men. We were gazed at fondly by many a pair of eyes as I carefully swung my partner without ever actually letting her go, because I didn't want her to sail off and knock somebody over. Bella's hair swung out around her like a pennant and she was smiling, _really_ smiling, mouth wide as we spun around and her hands clutched at my shoulders.

I took her back back to the table, telling her that I needed the bathroom, and I was only gone a minute or two, but Christ! when I got back, some other person under the age of thirty had turned up and was standing at the table talking to her. I didn't fucking believe it. She was _smiling_ at the creep!

"Oh, hey Edward, it's such a coincidence, but this is my oldest friend - Jacob. He and I used to play together when we were little kids. Fancy him knowing about this place too, huh? Jake, this is Edward."

"Yep, I know Edward," Jake said, eying me doubtfully. He looked like he wanted to be a lot more than friends with Bella. He looked like he knew I did, too.

Jacob sat down, which I could have done without, and I was excluded from the conversation as he engaged Bella in some crap talk about his sisters. He was so obvious I couldn't believe she was letting him do this to me and that she couldn't see right through it. And then after only a couple more numbers Irina announced that the show was over. It was only ten-thirty.

"Hey, Bells, I'm off. I'll run you home if you like," he suggested. "I'm going past your place anyway."

_And afterwards we drop into a quiet little place and have a drink or two_

He was three times my size, but I was about to hit him.

"_No_," Bella exclaimed. "I'm not ready to go home yet! The night is young!"

Oh, yeah,_ baby_! Don't blow it, Cullen. She might have an unfounded objection to you punching her oldest friend. "We could go on somewhere else. Would you like to get a drink?" I offered cautiously.

She just couldn't wipe the smile off her face, it seemed. "Duh, _yeah_!" she answered. "This is the best night I've had since I arrived here. Take me somewhere else, Edward. I love being with you, and I'm not going home before midnight."

She said goodnight to Jacob with a kiss on the cheek, and he saw me darkly calculating the amount of affection in it. Still, he turned and went, to my relief.

Strictly speaking, neither Bella nor I are legally allowed to drink in a bar. However I have a few contacts, and I knew somewhere we could go which would be quiet, discreet and comfortable, and they'd sling us a couple of beers. It's another club I know where the front is an ordinary bar, but through some curtains and down a hall and through another door is a little room I'm allowed access to where the owner will serve me alcohol, on one condition. He has an old piano, and I've been playing since I was five, which is twelve years now, and he'll give me beer for songs. It's a sweet deal. I'm trained in classical music and he was at a concert once I was performing in with his granddaughter. I was mucking around doing the wrong thing, which I sometimes do, and I started playing tango. Pablo rushed over and started on at me effusively, explaining that he was from Buenos Aires and he played the bandoneón, the small squeezebox used for tango music, and asking if I would play with him sometime. It was the start of something beautiful. I go down there once a fortnight or so, and he brings me beer or sangria and we play for a couple of hours, somethings with cronies of his, sometimes just the two of us, and his wife Carmen comes and listens and wipes tears from her eyes. My parents know I do this, and they more or less turn a blind eye, as long as I'm not driving. They even give me a twenty for the cab home.

I took Bella in there, and her eyes lit up seeing the place. Everything is faded and red in the little room - it's called El Corazón Rojo. The furniture is old and falling apart, there are no overhead lights, only lamps on the three or four tables, and they have red lampshades. It's tiny and eclectic and I imagine if any of us were aware of anything in the womb, this is what it would look like, except for the tables and chairs, of course. The walls have red velvet curtains instead of paint or wallpaper - the whole place feels warm and bloody and perfectly suited to the passion of tango. But tonight I wasn't there to play. There was music being piped through the little speakers mounted on the walls. A couple of Pablo's friends were there playing cards, and Bella and I sat down and were served with a pitcher of sangria by a beaming Carmen without even having to ask.

"Jesus, Edward, you're a surprise. First that fabulous band, and now this place. I'm so glad I agreed to come with you," Bella said, and her appreciation was all the thanks I needed. It loosened my tongue, and I found us chatting about music, then we wandered to films and books and a couple of hours passed without us even noticing. I did notice the fathomless depths of her beautiful eyes though, and the porcelain translucence of her skin, and the cadenza of her laughter, and the adroitness of her wit, and the giddying breadth of her vocabulary and the scope of her intellect, and I was drunk. More than drunk.

"Edward, I am thoroughly enjoying myself. God, I love being friends with you!" she informed me, slightly slurring and reaching over the tiny table between us to take my hand.

_And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like I love you_

"You've got no idea what a change it is to not have someone crapping on about my eyes or my skin or whatever stupid cliche comes to mind. Guys are all so uninventive - but you, you're different. You don't say that stuff."

"Well, I was going to tell you that I love you, but I guess I won't then," I said, trying to make it sound like a joke, but desperate to see her reaction.

She shrugged. "It's fine if you love me Edward. Maybe I'll love you too. Who knows? Where's the bathroom?" She stood up and instantly swayed. "Fuck, was there alcohol in that raspberry cordial?"

My heart, which was just about to start singing, suddenly swooped. She didn't mean what she'd just said. She was off her head, and I was a prick. I'd worked out a seduction program, which on reflection now sounded downright nasty, to take her out and pretend I had no romantic interest in her and then, I don't know what next because I hadn't worked out the next bit, but by mistake I got her drunk. She was obviously not used to alcohol, and I had figured she'd know sangria is made of wine! But then, I hadn't actually ordered, Carmen just brought us the drink, and Bella was chucking it back pretty quickly. As soon as we finished the first jug Carmen had materialized with another one.

"Oh, Bella, yes, it's alcoholic - I'm really sorry, I thought you knew - do you need me to come to the bathroom with you? Are you going to be sick?" I asked.

"Yes," she mumbled miserably, and I took her down the hall. She barely made it to the ladies' rest room before she threw up, and I was holding her hair back and apologizing seventeen hundred times in between silently cursing myself. I am a deplorable dickhead. I am a reprehensible defiler of innocence and betrayer of trust. Poor Bella slumped to the floor, curled around the toilet and I feebly mopped her forehead with a paper hand towel that I'd dampened, and offered to get her some iced water.

"Don't leave me," she moaned, so I stayed and she vomited again and from what I could see, it was all raspberry cordial. No solids. Isn't there a law that says no matter what you've eaten you vomit diced carrots?

"Did you have any dinner?" I asked her and she shook her head.

"Christ, Bella, you've got to look after yourself," I muttered and she said her father wasn't home so she couldn't be bothered cooking and then she thought she'd have toast and then she was getting ready to go out and she just forgot. We sat for a while, she had her eyes closed and we were in a sort of awkward half-hug there on the floor, and after ten minutes she hadn't thrown up again.

"Do you think you could eat now?" I asked her.

She gave a weak laugh. "Do they serve food in the toilet here?" she asked.

God, Edward, you fool. "No, I mean if you're feeling a bit better do you want to get something simple? Pasta maybe? Or shall I take you straight home?" Not straight home, please, please.

She sat up, pushing her hair back and frowning. "Thank heavens you're my friend and not a potential boyfriend and this wasn't a date," she said, cutting me slightly. "Because I would have felt really mortified. It's nice that I can vomit in front of you."

"Yes, very nice. I'd like to say feel free to do it any time, but I can't. Let's get something into you," I responded, and then hoped like hell she didn't pick up on the ridiculous double entendre I'd just unwittingly dropped into the reverberation chamber of the bathroom.

"I'll clean up a bit, okay? Wait for me outside," she said, getting to her feet. I stood in the hall drumming my heels against the skirting board, hands in pockets, waiting until she emerged with tendrils of damp hair curling around her face.

_I can see it in your eyes that you despise the same old lines you heard the night before_

"Well, that's an improvement. You don't have that I-just-hurled look any more," I told her, hoping to ease the situation in case she was embarrassed. She chuckled at me and actually took my hand. Don't blow it, Cullen.

The kitchen was closed where we were so we wandered down the street a bit and stopped in at a diner where I bought her a plate of fries. She wanted mayonnaise on them.

"You'll be sick again," I warned her, disgusted. "I may not be willing to help you out again this time, when I know what's caused it." She waved several creamy-tipped fries right under my nose, laughing. She was clearly feeling a lot better.

"I like you, Cullen. You're no bullshit, you know that? You're not full of dumb compliments, trying to pick me up. You're nice."

_And though it's just a line to you for me it's true and never felt so right before_

And where do nice guys finish? We all know the answer to that one. I wanted to tell her that she's beautiful and rare, and I would be so utterly sincere saying it, but not only does she not want to hear it, I get the feeling our newfound friendship would disintegrate, and she'd take herself away from me without looking back.

So, no compliments. Not the kind of things I've heard girls say to one another, anyway, like "Your tits look totally hot in that top," or "You have such long eyelashes." She seemed to like humor that was very gently deprecating. I can do deprecating. It was going to kill me not to be honest, but I'd have to watch my tongue.

"Home now, Cinderella?" I asked when she finished the plate of food and she nodded, mouth full, grinning at me. I'd do anything to have her grin at me, even if it meant lying and acting like a fool. Over the last couple of weeks I'd noticed she didn't seem to want to have much at all to do with any male students, but she could smile at me. I'd take friendship. For now. Until I fucking exploded, or fell apart into a million frustrated, dishonest, nice pieces.

We got a cab, and I dropped her off and and she leaned over and brushed a little kiss to my cheek before she got out. I'd take friendship, for now.

_I practice every day to find some clever lines to say to make the meaning come through_

And of course, Alice, human piranha, was still up when I got home, and wanted to play twenty questions.

"Did you leave the party with Bella? Where did you go? What did you do? What happened?"

She was relentless, and wouldn't take short answers. It was nearly one, and I was tired, and to be perfectly honest, I had an appointment with my hand. Yes, I am that awful. A girl falls to her knees and vomits in front of me, and it goes into the spank bank. Hey - she was on her knees!

"Alice, leave me alone. I spend half my life telling you to leave me alone! Pick on someone your own size! Oh, hang on - that would mean you'd have to hang around at the gates of a primary school," I said and she snorted at me.

"You just spent hours with the object of your affections. Did you kiss her?" she demanded, undaunted.

"No, I did not, because I am not a dirtbag. I respect her," I said.

"Hmm?" Alice asked, one syllable, no vowels. She was onto me.

"All right, no I didn't because Bella is not interested in me in that way," I admitted sorrowfully.

"You need help, Edward. You're lucky you've got me. I'll give you some gems that no girl could resist, and then Bella will be yours," she smiled smugly.

"She doesn't like compliments," I said.

"All girls like compliments!" Alice stated.

"No, she's mistrustful of them. She thinks men use them as a means to an end. Whispering sweet nothings isn't going to work," I said, very tiredly. I wanted to go.

"Compliments and sweet nothings aren't quite the same thing. Leave it with me," Alice mused, finally wandering off to her own room. She is a steamroller, and searching through my memory I can't come up with a single instance when Alice hasn't gotten exactly what she's wanted. But then, Alice has only had our family to contend with before. She hasn't been up against Bella's calibre. I'm not sure what Bella's calibre is, but I think I am about to become a pawn, in a game which hopefully will have two winners.

"I've got a plan," Alice said the next morning as I drove us both to school.

"I can't wait to hear it," I told her, truthfully.

"No compliments," Alice said, as if she was delivering the cure for AIDS. "Just try and be a friend to her, and try and be a bit snarky and amusing. She'll like that."

"Jesus, is that all you've got? I already figured all that for myself!" I yelped at her.

It seemed Bella and I had reached a turning point in our relationship after what was half a debacle, half a raging success on Saturday night because she wanted to sit with me at lunch, and we had no trouble at all chatting. I tried my damnedest to be interesting and witty in an unforced, casual way, as if I was actually a funny person in real life, and Alice sat there looking like the whole thing was her idea. Bella laughed and smirked and giggled for an hour and invited me to a party on the weekend.

"See?" Alice mouthed at me.

"I promise I'll eat first. Why don't we have dinner together?" Bella suggested, and Alice's grin was on high beam but it was all so _wrong_ because anyone would think Bella was asking me out, but I knew she wasn't. Well, she was, but she wasn't.

And then this going-out-while-not-going-out carry-on set in for weeks. It was accepted that Bella and I turned up places together, but weren't exactly dating. There was no kissing, no flirting, no hand-holding, no displays of affection public or private. It was all best friends forever. We'd arrive somewhere and she'd wander off and socialize and I'd stand around and listen to meaningless yabber from other people that I had no interest in, and then we'd leave together. It was as though she was using me as a shield to keep guys way from her. I started to resent it, but then the time we did actually spend together was great. We got on achingly well. Aching for me, anyway. She treated me like a girl. She even talked about her period, which on the one hand was too much information, and on the other hand was important, and was stuff I needed to know. She told me everything, or it felt that way. She was unguarded. I was coming undone and it couldn't last.

_Then I think I'll wait until the evening gets late and I'm alone with you_

"Well?" Alice asked, six weeks later. Bella and I were spending two or three evenings a week together.

"Nothing doing. Nothing. Thanks for your input," I said sarcastically, and I was ready to take matters into my own hands. Actually, I was doing that night after night. What I mean is, something had to change.

I decided I'd take her back to El Corazón Rojo and blow my chances forever and ever by telling her how I felt. And then I'd leave town right after she looked at me pityingly and shook her head and said "I thought you were different."

"Hey, Edward, my friend Jacob is having a party at the beach on Saturday night - shall we both go?" Bella asked, and her friend Jacob was the guy I wanted to punch, even if I had to stand on a stool to reach his face, he was so tall.

"Sure. Beach party. Sounds excellent," I said, dully. "I'll bring my snorkel."

Woo-hoo. Stupid Jacob and his stupid friends apparently didn't own shirts, or full-length jeans. They paraded around in shorts looking like they took steroids and did five thousand sit-ups before breakfast. I hated them all, and Bella ran up to them and actually kissed each one of them on their hair-free cheeks, making me conscious I hadn't shaved in two days. Oh joy. At least there was food and Bella ate some of it, cheeks bulging like a chipmunk's with bread roll and chicken and her eternally returning mayonnaise. God, she was cute. God, I was fucked. She had a beer. I had a beer. They lit a fire and I watched her, and Jacob watched her and I watched him watch her and he watched me watch her.

She sat with him, his arm around her shoulders and her head on his shoulder, smiling dreamily, and they murmured to each other, his eyes on me. The flames threw shadows, the sparks danced, and he and I were engaged in an age-old stand-off, two alpha males wanting the same female. These days though, the female has the ultimate say. She probably always did. She was sitting there in the circle of his arm and I couldn't do a thing about it.

But then Bella stood up! She walked over to me!

"Hey, Edward, shall we go somewhere else?" she asked and inside I was gloating although I like to think that I maintained a cool exterior.

"Yeah - the tango bar?" I asked her. She nodded happily, looping her hand through my arm. I chanced a look back at Jacob who I expected would be glowering poisonously, but to my surprise he looked speculative. I wondered what the hell she'd been saying to him.

I was okay to drive, so we took my car into town.

Pablo was there tonight with about twenty of his mates, he greeted me with a kiss to each cheek, and Bella too, and Carmen brought us a jug of barf juice. "Careful, now," I said to Bella, who poked me in the ribs, and then Pablo wanted to play.

We started off, and Bella was stunned up to her eyeballs because I hadn't exactly told her, but Carmen handed her some maracas and they're not a tango instrument but Bella got right into it all and shook them vigorously. All shaker instruments are trickier than you'd expect, but she didn't do too badly, and Pablo's mate Pedro was there with his violin and it was the sort of night I used to have before I met Bella - all beer and music and camaraderie, despite the huge age difference between me and the other players. Only tonight Bella was there, and it was better than ever.

"How could you not happen to mention that you're a musical genius?" she hissed at me in a break between songs, and I shrugged.

"It never really came up. You didn't ask," I replied, and Pablo and Carmen were looking at us with twinkles and gladness, although I was going to have to break the news later that no, Eduardo doesn't have a lovely girlfriend finally, after all this time, it's not like that.

We were there for a couple of hours I guess, and then I told Pablo that I should be getting along, although he'd happily play all night. Thing was, I could already see through the window that the first hints of morning were tinting the sky, and I'd better get my platonic friend home. She knew about the raspberry cordial now, of course, and she didn't appear to be wobbly, but I am never, ever doing that to her again.

Everybody kissed Bella with enthusiasm, and she responded in kind, which stung. They all urged her to come back soon and she agreed fervently that she would, and we left my car there and climbed into a cab.

_The time is right, your perfume fills my head, the stars get red and all the night's so blue_

"Can I talk to you?" she said at her house, and I said, "Uh, yes?", looking towards the meter.

"Will you come in?" she asked.

Oh, fuck. This was it. I felt like I'd just taken a blow to the solar plexus. She was going to say we couldn't be friends, it wasn't working, she'd seen me staring at her, Jacob told her I was staring, it was all over, I'm a dumb boy just like all the other dumb boys and she didn't want me around.

"Is your Dad home?" I managed, after paying the cab driver. Maybe I should tell him to wait. I'm going to need to be driven to hospital soon suffering a terminal wound to the heart.

"Not until the morning," she answered over her shoulder, opening the front door. I followed her in, glumly, not expecting to get out intact.

"Beer?" she asked, and I might as well. Might as well be numb for the fall of the axe.

She curled up at the other end of the couch, away from me.

"Um," she said. "Um."

"Um," I said back to her.

"Well, Edward, um. I haven't wanted a boyfriend. And you've been a lovely friend to me, and I really, really appreciate it. I don't want to muck things up between us. I know this is going to be unwelcome, but I'm just going to burst if I don't say anything. So I'm going to just put it out there, and then you can tell me I'm stupid, and then that'll ease the tension a bit, and then things will be fine, right?" she said.

I had no idea what she's talking about. Is this how you dump a not-boyfriend? I wanted to text Alice and ask her to translate.

Bella inched closer. Huh?

"The thing is, Edward. Um," she said, and she was reddening to a spectacular degree. At least she was embarrassed to dump me.

"What is the thing?" I said, morosely.

"Um. Well, you're not like the others, you haven't been after me from day one and it's been a relief and I've grown to really trust you, and I feel so safe and happy with you and I guess I let my guard down and I've come to realize that you're exactly - well - " she stopped.

I'm exactly what? She moved again, towards me, fidgeting with her hair. I could just smell a faint scent from it. "We get on so well, I love being with you and talking to you, and your sense of humor, and maybe this is all one-way, probably it is, but - " and she kissed me very lightly on the lips.

_She kissed me_. I sat back stunned.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Bella whispered, horrified at my reaction.

"What are you doing?" I asked her, not wanting to be broken.

"I'm sorry," she said again, trying to scoot back to the other end of the couch. I grabbed her shoulders. She couldn't get away.

"What did you do that for?" I asked, my lips still feeling the softness of hers, the imprint.

"I just - " she said, and I was more or less staring at her with my mouth open doing a goldfish impersonation, awaiting an explanation, and then she did it again. Her own mouth was open, her lips came into contact with mine and both our mouths were already moving as if we were talking silently, and I closed my eyes seeing red flashes on the insides of my eyelids, feeling a tentative rapture at the edges trying to build into an earthquake. We kissed - really, _really_ kissed.

I've done this a lot before, I'm very experienced in the kissing department, thanks to plenty of forward and bold music students I've met over the last couple of years, but kissing Bella was nothing like it was with those other girls. She was shy and eager at the same time, she slid her mouth all over mine, she kept pulling back and then coming at me again and it was delicious and teasing and fulfilling. I couldn't quite get a grip on her, she was controlling the whole event, she slipped her tongue into my mouth and probed wetly and enticed my tongue out to play and then swirled around it with hers. I had _never_ been kissed like this before. I broke the contact to stare at her. I had to warn her not to play with me. If she kept this up, she would have me for life.

_And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like I love you_

"What are you doing?" I asked her again, my voice catching.

"I really like you," she whispered. "Is this okay? You have to tell me. You can't just kiss me back, and then maybe tomorrow act like nothing's happened. Please, Edward. This means something. Does it mean something?"

The air was lightening around us. Morning was definitely on its way. There was a bit of pale blue around, and her complexion looked unearthly. Her dark eyes were darker than ever.

Don't blow this, Cullen.

"I love you," I said, blowing it entirely.

Her head ducked. Her hair hung heavily. I couldn't read her face because I couldn't see it.

"Fuck, Edward, I just told you I like you. _Like_. Way to ruin the moment," her voice came, and I couldn't bear it. I took her chin gently and pulled her face up to me. She wasn't smiling. I was going to need that hospital visit after all because I'd just served up my heart to Isabella Swan on a plate and it wasn't in my chest any more and it had just been cut up.

"_Like_," she said again. "Can we use that as a starting point, and progress from there?"

Hands around my neck, she pulled my face to hers, and the spectacular kissing started again. Apparently, I hadn't blown it. My heart was still whole and like is a good starting point. We'll progress from there.

.

.

.

_Something Stupid lyrics by C Carson Parks_

Don't be shy! Leave a nice message and Tangoward will take you dancing!


	2. Chapter 2

You may not have been expecting this. I wasn't.

Characters owned by S Meyer.

**Like Is A Good Starting Point**

_Well I can feel a new expression on my face_

Welcome to the enormous, bustling metropolis of Forks, Washington! See the bright lights! Thrill to the night life! Take a stroll along the boulevardes, and people-watch! Enjoy the cosmopolitan air of this gracious northern city! Choke to death on your disappointment in it all!

God, what did I expect? Why am I so lame? My mom had said, "Come on, Bella, give it a go. You loved it there when you were a kid. If you don't like it, I promise you can come back and live with me and Phil, but I think a change will do you good. You're kind of quiet for a teenager. When I was your age..."

Yeah, I know. When she was my age she at least went out, and dated, and went to parties and stuff. She cared about her hair and her clothes. She had good clean teenage fun. Or at least she did until that particular New Year's Eve when the fun involved tongues at close quarters, and then a good deal more than that - a making out session that turned into a making love session with the shy, sweet boy who impregnated her.

"Charlie's pretty quiet - that's where you get it from, love - but he'll take real good care of you and he'll try his hardest to be the best dad he can be. And you and I can talk every day, and it'll be fine, baby," she'd promised.

I clutched my little pot with my little cactus, wishing I could have brought a proper Arizona succulent, a flamboyant prickly pear or a statuesque saguaro instead of this rotund little thing that looked like a stuffed toy. My Dad picked me up from the airport and didn't say much, and he drove us to his house and didn't say much, and showed me my room and didn't say much. And all the while I didn't say much either.

It was January and I think I was in a little bit of shock. Shock that I'd moved to somewhere that felt like this after living in Phoenix. Shock that I'd moved at all. Shock that I was sharing a house with someone who didn't really talk, when Renee was the world's greatest motormouth. In a good way, though. She was airy-fairy and hard to pin down, but she was intuitive and creative too. Actually, Charlie seemed quiet in a good way. He was really un-intrusive, and the silences weren't actually too awkward, just very different. I knew he liked me and hoped I liked him. I knew he wanted me to be happy. I just needed to work out how I was doing on both of those fronts.

The scariest thing was going to be school. There were something like three hundred fifty students at the school, and Forks is not somewhere with a transient population. They would all have known each other since kindergarten and I was going to have that new girl glow to a nuclear degree.

A sound outside interrupted my worryings, and I went downstairs to see what was happening. A red truck pulled into our driveway, and Charlie was already out there, grinning. The driver's side door opened and a young guy got out, about my age, and he went round to the tray and pulled down a fold-up wheelchair, which he opened out and set on the ground. The other door opened and an older guy hefted himself down, using his hands, and settled himself in the chair.

"Bella, this is Billy Black, and Jacob," Charlie said to me, after he'd finished high-fiving the older guy like they were two big kids.

"Hey," I said, surprised as Billy wheeled himself onto the road and he and Charlie started doing some demented dance out there, like a ballet for the Paralympics.

"Do you remember me, Bella?" the younger one, Jacob asked, and I took a good look. Sheesh - I'd met this guy before? He was native american and very cute, although he looked really young.

"Ah - not really?" I said and he shrugged.

"We were very good friends, and then we got married," he said. "You gave me my first kiss, when I was four. You were five, cradle-snatcher."

"Oh, you're my husband. How could I have forgotten that?" I replied, and we smiled at each other.

"Your dad wants me to give you these," he said, and handed me the keys to the truck. Charlie and Billy were still clowning around out in the street as I looked back up at Jacob.

"What for?" I asked him, and he nodded his head towards the truck, his smile turning into a great grin.

"You're kidding me, right? Are you kidding me? You're giving me this truck?" I exclaimed, my voice going higher with each question. "But that's unreal! It's awesome! It's so beautiful! Hey, Dad, thanks times a thousand!"

Jacob and I got in to the cab and he showed me the gears and the ignition.

"You know how to drive, right?" he said.

"You betcha. Can I take you to school?" I asked him.

"I don't go to the high school. I attend school where I live, but thanks anyway," he said.

Bummer.

The next morning I fronted up to school, on my own and very nervous. I got pounced on immediately by a guy who was very friendly, and then another, and then another, and before I got to my first class there was a swarm of them.

This was so unlike what had ever happened to me before that I started to imagine crazy reasons to explain it. Maybe there was a chastity club that all the girls in school belonged to, and the guys were hoping I wouldn't be inclined to join? Maybe they all had a mystery virus that made them seek out anybody that smelled of cactus?

I was still pondering on it by lunchtime since it still hadn't let up, and I sat in the cafeteria surrounded by most of the y-chromosome bearing people on the school roll. It actually started to make me uncomfortable, all this eagerness, and I had to look away from them all.

On the other side of the room was a table with five students sitting at it, and they were all looking at me, too. I decided to brazen it out, instead of reacting with a blush and a downward eye, which was what I felt like. So I stared. And my God, I could have floated right out of my chair, levitated, and crossed the floor without putting a foot to the ground, just to be closer to that table. There was a guy there who was everything I'd never had the nerve to dream about. It hit me like a bolt of lightning. No single thing about him was doing this to me, not his hair, or eyes, or expression, or posture, or physique - it was everything that added up to the whole. He was beyond description. I realized after a while that my mouth was open and the whole world could see my idiocy. That, and the beginnings of a drool. I had to look away.

_I can feel a new sensation taking place_

First class after lunch was biology, and I had trouble finding the right classroom so I was a little late. I walked in and met the teacher, and he said casually, "Bella, you'll be partnering Edward. Take a seat," and I looked for said Edward, and it was him. Lunchroom guy. Lightning Bolt guy. Fate - you've got to be fucking kidding me, dealing me a blow like this!

I couldn't even speak. I sat down like a zombie, and got the books out like a zombie, and opened them, unseeing, and I sat with my head forward so my hair formed a soft wall between us to protect my skin from heat, which actually it didn't. It failed miserably. I sat there blushing, more on the side closest to him than the other, I could feel it. I could even tell one ear was red and one wasn't.

What are fibrillations? Is that the proper medical term for when your heart skips a beat? Or several? Or starts hammering so hard you think you should start asking questions about your family's medical history? Whatever they were called, I was having them.

This was ridiculous. All good-looking men are stupid and conceited, after all. They're shallow and vain and women with any instinct for self-preservation don't fall for them. I didn't have to pay him too much attention during class, and he didn't pay me very much, and once the buzzer rang the torturous session was over and I didn't have to worry about him any more. And by next week I'd be over it. No problem.

There was another guy I'd met called Mike who was friendly and easy, and he seemed a little earnest but dull. He asked me out and made it seem like a "Welcome to town, let me show you around" kind of deal, so I went. Actually, he took me to the pictures, and we sat in the dark a little awkwardly and I didn't particularly like the film, because I'm very fussy with films. He really enthused about it afterwards, so mildly speaking, it was not a successful date. But then, I wasn't thinking of it as a date.

We grabbed a burger afterwards, and made small talk and he took me home, and I thanked him and jumped pretty quickly out of his car. It had been an okay evening, but I wasn't going to sit in there giving him the wrong impression.

"See you tomorrow," I called, halfway up the path to my house.

If he was pissed off or disappointed he didn't show it, and the next day he was still friendly and easy. I probably wasn't really thinking straight, because I accepted another invitation from someone called Tyler, who was equally nice. He wanted to see some band, and they were some teenage-boy yelling outfit and I wasn't into it at all, so I told him I had a bit of a headache, and the evening ground to a halt quite early. But why persevere? It just wasn't working out for me and the band were total crap. We went home, and I said goodnight again, skipping off as fast as I could, and he was still sweet to me the next day, so maybe he hadn't really expected anything. I don't know.

After that, a couple of the girls took me under their wing, or wings, and I just started hanging out with a gang. No-one was really paired off, and it was fine. We went to parties and concerts and Mom was so proud of me, acting normal.

"Are you wearing _dresses_?" she asked excitedly.

"Yeah, Mom, sure," I said, although I wasn't. Jeans, t-shirts and sneakers. I didn't have the curves to fill out a dress with the proper hourglass shape. I was skinny as a boy, so I dressed like one.

Meanwhile, in biology, I had discovered something that surprised me. Edward Cullen was really smart. I thought Banner put me next to him because - well, because no-one else sat there, and he was waiting to see where I'd fit in socially. But I soon realized that despite his looks, Edward was the brightest student. Holy crow. I reckon my mom had ADD - she was bright, but lacked any ability to concentrate. And I reckon my dad could concentrate for Olympic gold, but he'd never suffered a flight of fancy in his life. I fell somewhere between the two. I wasn't quite as good on the creative imagining as Renee, and I didn't quite have the steely focus Charlie had, but I'd been pretty lucky with my intellectual inheritance as far as academia went and I always performed well. I began to suspect Banner had put me with Edward because of the intellectual assessment Forks High had received from my last school. Things were great between Edward and me when we were discussing science. We found platforms of agreement discussing Gould and Dawkins and my inherent awkwardness around him dissipated, until we got through that classroom door. On the other side of the door, I became tongue-tied and couldn't speak for the fear of stammering. And inexplicably he seemed to lose interest in me once we were in the corridor. It was like he didn't want to be seen with me or something. So once we got through that door I usually fled back to the haven of the girls I was hanging out with.

"Hey, party at Ange's tomorrow, Bells," Jessica said, on one of the occasions I mooched up after experiencing conversation fail with Edward, yet again. "Everyone's coming."

"Sure. Great," I returned. My life was one big whirl. And I'd been to quite a few parties so far, and I knew that not "everyone" went. Edward was never there.

I told Mom about I was going out, yet again, and told a little white lie that I was wearing a dress, to her delight. I even invented high-heeled shoes.

"Not too high, Bella," she cautioned. "There's no point making yourself three inches taller if you can't walk."

"Thank you for your confidence in me," I replied drily.

The party got off to a pretty ordinary start. I was sitting on a sofa with Jessica and Lauren who were gossiping and I was nodding and trying to follow them when Jess needed the bathroom, and the second she stood up some guy scooted into her spot and started making me uncomfortable. He was leaning too close, he was breathing all over me and I was straining back so that I didn't inhale his second-hand air, when my skin started to prickle and heat. What? I even thought my ears were tingling. My palms sprouted perspiration and my breath caught. Looking around wildly, I saw a tall form walking out through the living room door, hair a dark red mess, shoulders broad, head down a little.

God - I hadn't even seen Edward there, and now he was leaving?

I couldn't let it happen. I got an adrenalin rush that propelled me off the sofa, drawing a startled "hey!" from the guy next to me, and I shot through the room in hot pursuit.

Edward was on the porch, and he'd lit a cigarette. I didn't even know he smoked. I hadn't smelt it on him - not that I didn't spend every biology class hiding behind my hair.

He was facing away from me, and it was time for my gambit, for me to say something that would make him want to talk to me.

"Those things will kill you," I told him, and died. The first time I'd seen him socially, and I'd started off with a criticism?

"What things?" he asked, turning to me.

In for a penny, in for a pound. "Those things, you dope," I said, indicating his cigarette. "You know what they do to you, don't you? They constrict your blood vessels for a start, which interrupts the flow of oxygen and nutrition around your body, they - "

He cut me off smoothly, saying, "Thank you for your edification, Dr Swan. I shall cease forthwith," and he stubbed the cigarette out. I felt like a schoolmarm, and wondered if I should go away. But he kept talking.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked me.

Chasing you? No, I couldn't say that. "Oh, it was just getting a bit close back there, you know what I mean?" I sighed instead. "I don't know what it is about this town. Back where I came from, I was just one of the kids. Here, it's like I've taken Jessica Alba pills. All the guys are all over me. I can't take a step anywhere without some fool tripping over his own eagerness to make a fuss of me. It was fun for about a day, but I'm really over it now."

What am I talking about? I'm telling him how popular I am? I am the world's biggest dick.

He acknowledged my dickness by nodding and saying "Mmm."

And then I confirmed it for all time by adding, "Do you know, you're practically the only guy in school who hasn't hit on me?"

"You're safe with me," he replied quickly, and I could have just crumbled into dust. He didn't like me at all, whatsoever. Biology partners are us, and that was all. I might as well go dig a hole and jump in it.

He was quiet for a minute and so was I, but then he spoke again. "Let's be friends. You and me. You wanna get out of here? We could go to a club and listen to some music if you like, to christen our friendship."

Friends? He still wanted to be in my vicinity? I could have fist-pumped, but I had to play it cool.

"Yeah, that would be kind of nice," I said. My lucky night. Don't blow it, Swan.

We went out to his car without even telling anyone we were going, and he drove us into town. He drove really well, fast and smooth, and his car was heavenly. It was like going for ride in a warm cloud and I never wanted to get out.

_I can hear guitars playing lovely tunes_

But we went to this place that I'd never been before and no-one had ever mentioned, and we got in there, and everybody was old. Like, grandparent old. About to shuffle off this mortal coil old.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I asked in amazement. It was well-lit, unlike the sort of clubs younger people go to in the hope if no-one can see anyone else too well, people will get lucky. Here, the patrons obviously needed to be able to see well enough to steer their walking frames.

There was a stage at one end of the room, and a bunch of dears were arranged up there with instruments, and they were playing the sort of music you hear in old films about World War Two, like when handsome doomed soldiers and beautiful, sad women are dancing together one last time before the guys go off to war, and you know there's a good chance the guys will never come back, or that the girls will hear that their sweetheart is dead, and they marry someone else only to find that their lover returns, or that the girls just wait, reading aching and beautiful love letters and accepting marriage proposals through the mail. The singer had obviously been a siren in her time, and was still a bit of one, with a wickedly bright eye and a flirtatious tone. She was gorgeous.

"This is _awesome_," I said to Edward, loving every minute of it.

"Really?" he asked. "Would you like to dance?"

"Oh, God, I am the crappest, most graceless dancer you could meet in a month of Sundays, but I'll give it a go," I grinned, because I am really challenged in the co-ordination and dancing department. He didn't seem to mind. He led confidently, and he was strong and graceful, and for the first time in my life I didn't feel like a trespasser on the dancefloor. There were steps that everyone was doing, and he propelled me around, and didn't ever actually let me go so I couldn't spin across the floor taking out everybody in my path. It was fantastic, and I couldn't wipe the grin off my face. "Mom, you should see me now!" I was thinking.

After a few songs Edward excused himself, and I sat back down, relaxed and happy, watching the singer some more and trying to work out the secret of her appeal. Are coquettes born or made? God, surely she could teach me a thing or two.

"Is that you Bells? What are you doing here?" said an unexpected voice, and to my surprise and delight, Jacob Black turned up out of nowhere, standing next to our table.

He and I had been spending a bit of time together on the weekends, when he brought Billy over to visit Charlie. Our dads would sink a couple of beers and watch football, and Jake and I would listen to music, and play poker for matchsticks, and talk about finding women for them.

"Yes, it's me. I'm here with a friend. A platonic friend. A guy friend," I said, stumbling over myself. "What are _you_ doing here?"

Jake grinned down at me. "A platonic guy friend? Whatever you say, shortstuff. What I'm doing here is I've driven some of the older folks from the rez out for a night on the town. It's a pretty cool place, huh? We come down about once a month. Hey, my sisters are starting to think Billy and I have hallucinated you - they're asking when I''m bringing you over."

Edward materialized just as suddenly as Jacob had, and was looking uncertainly at him.

"Oh, hey Edward, it's such a coincidence, but this is my oldest friend - Jacob. He and I used to play together when we were little kids. Fancy him knowing about this place too, huh? Jake, this is Edward,"

"Yep, I know Edward," Jake said, and a strange look passed between them. Maybe Jake thought I already had enough platonic guy friends. Maybe Edward thought he'd be the only one. Or maybe there was some backstory between the two of them that I didn't know.

They both sat down, and Jake made a bit of small talk about Rachel and Rebecca and I told him I was really keen to see them. I guess Edward couldn't really join in the chat, but he seemed absorbed in the music and disinclined to comment anyway. I was tapping my feet under the table and working up the courage to ask Edward for another dance just so I could feel his arms around me again when the singer announced they were finishing. Shouldn't there have been a slow number, so that couples could dance really close, just like the movies? Maybe the older people didn't do that, since the women outnumbered the men by so much.

Jake got to his feet. "Hey, Bells, I'm off. I'll run you home if you like," he suggested. "I'm going past your place anyway."

I wasn't going to give Edward up. It was only 10.30!

"No!" I said, perhaps a little too loudly. "I'm not ready to go home yet! The night is young!"

Oh, God, what would Edward think?

To my relief, he said, "We could go on somewhere else. Would you like to get a drink?"

Thirteen beautiful words, I counted them on my fingers, which is a nervous habit I have, strung together in an order that brought a surge of relief and hope. He didn't want to get rid of me.

"Duh, _yeah_!" I answered. "This is the best night I've had since I arrived here. Take me somewhere else, Edward. I love being with you, and I'm not going home before midnight."

Calm down, calm down. Don't lay it on too thick. He's just being friendly, I admonished myself, and reached up to kiss Jacob goodnight.

Now a drink might or might not have been a good idea at that point. Charlie didn't mind if I had a light beer now and again, but I didn't really like the taste unless I could put a shot of lime cordial in it.

"Bells, that's no way to treat beer," he frown, and I'd shrug. Renee didn't drink at all because she was off in fairyland half the time, and alcohol just made her crash back down to earth. I'd had drinks at parties and quite liked the buzz, but I wasn't sure how I'd go, drinking with Edward. What if I said something stupid? I didn't want to say I wasn't going to drink tonight though, in case he thought that meant I wanted to go home.

We got back into the cloud, and the second place wasn't far from the first. He led me in, and it was a quiet little bar with jazz playing and a few people sitting round, and there wasn't much of a vibe. We strode straight through and Edward nodded to left and right, they all knew him. At the back of the room a pair of curtains were screening a doorway, and we went through them and kept going around until we came to another little door, and walked into another world.

_Every time that you walk in the room_

Everything was red. Well, not everything, but the lamps on the tables all had red or pink shades, and the hue cast everywhere was rich and warm and sanguine. He'd thrown me straight back into another movie - one I hadn't seen but wished I had. There was fabric on the walls with tassels and fringes, there were scarves draped about embroidered with flowers in scarlet and vermilion and crimson and it was dark and felt small, although it was quite a big room. It was just so enclosed, so _close_, cluttered everywhere with strange ornaments on haphazardly placed shelves, tilted bookcases, paraphernalia defying classification. There were instruments strung on the walls, flute-looking things, and oddly shaped stringed things, and there was wild, crazy, blood-stirring gypsy music playing through a series of tiny speakers.

More people nodded to Edward as he guided me to a table and we sat. A woman who looked like Sophia Loren brought us a large jug of something clear and red with fruit floating in it, and two glasses, and I took a huge gulp, glad I wouldn't need to have the alcohol conversation.

"Jesus, Edward, you're a surprise. First that fabulous band, and now this place. I'm so glad I agreed to come with you," I told him, and he seemed pleased, and then we just talked and talked. Music, movies, literature - words spilled from us both and it was all easy and quick, but thoughtful too, and he was so different to the Edward at school who only wanted to talk about science, and who seemed to dismiss me as soon as we left the classroom. Here we discovered we could make each other laugh. The music changed and became slower, guitars picking out haunting melodies with refrains that sounded romantic and longing, and my heart became romantic and longing, although I knew I had to be careful.

"Edward, I am thoroughly enjoying myself. God, I love being friends with you!" I said sincerely, grasping over the table for his hand. It was true, too. This was better than a date. Having a real, proper, honest conversation that was genuinely exploring someone else's mind while laying your own open was a million times better than being with someone saying inane things that they thought a girl wanted to hear, and that they thought might get them a kiss or a quick feel at the end of the night. I would rather be friends with Edward than date anyone else.

"You've got no idea what a change it is to not have someone crapping on about my eyes or my skin or whatever stupid cliche comes to mind. Guys are all so uninventive - but you, you're different. You don't say that stuff."

"Well, I was going to tell you that I love you, but I guess I won't then," he answered, which came completely out of the blue. Presumably it was a joke, and I just hadn't quite tuned in to his sense of humor yet.

I answered, half-seriously, "It's fine if you love me Edward. Maybe I'll love you too. Who knows? Where's the bathroom?"

_I close my eyes for a second and pretend it's me that you want_

It seemed like a good idea to take a pee at that tricky point, but when I stood up I swayed. Something wasn't right. "Fuck, was there alcohol in that raspberry cordial?" I said, and my voice wasn't even coming out properly.

Edward looked concerned. His eyebrows drew together, and little vertical lines appeared between them.

"Oh, Bella, yes, it's alcoholic - I'm really sorry, I thought you knew - do you need me to come to the bathroom with you? Are you going to be sick?" he asked.

"Yes," I mumbled, putting a hand out, and he took me back into the hall. I was ready to heave before I even got to the bathroom, but I just made it in time, ralfing into the porcelain bowl with no dignity, and not even worrying about it. Edward hovered, holding my hair away from my face and saying sorry over and over as my stomach harshly threw out its scant contents. Its spasms rendered me far too weak to stand, and I folded to a pitiful little heap on the cold floor as he wiped my face with a paper hand towel and said he'd fetch water.

If he went I thought I'd fall and crack my head open. I wasn't sure which way was up.

"Don't leave me," I croaked, and some more of the vile stuff came from somewhere deep inside me, and I kept chucking.

"Did you have any dinner?" he asked, and I thought back to earlier in the evening. Oh, fuck. I hadn't eaten a thing. I shook my head.

"Christ, Bella, you've got to look after yourself," he scolded, and I explained about how I cook for my dad but he hadn't been home, so I didn't cook and I'd planned on toast, but then I'd been brushing my hair and stuff, and eating had just slipped my mind. He was on the floor next to me, to make the face-wiping easier I guess, and he draped one arm loosely around me, and then the other, supporting me gently. My stomach started to settle, and still we sat there, and the tiles were cold and hard and I thought my foot was going to sleep, but I didn't want to move.

"Do you think you could eat now?" he asked finally.

I could if they'd bring it to the bathroom so he didn't have to take his arms away. I laughed at the absurdity of my thought.

"Do they serve food in the toilet here?" I asked.

"No, I mean if you're feeling a bit better do you want to get something simple? Pasta maybe? Or shall I take you straight home?" he said.

I didn't want to go straight home, so I simply ignored the question.

"Thank heavens you're my friend and not a potential boyfriend and this wasn't a date," I said, instead. "Because I would have felt really mortified. It's nice that I can vomit in front of you."

"Yes, very nice. I'd like to say feel free to do it any time, but I can't. Let's get something into you," he answered, and I could have smirked, except that I knew he hadn't meant at all to say something suggestive. I wondered if he'd even realized. Just for one spilt second, I shut my eyes and let myself imagine that he knew exactly what he'd said, and he was flirting with me. I felt myself starting to blush. God, where was my self-discipline? Down the toilet with the raspberry cordial?

Struggling to my feet, I told him, "I'll clean up a bit, okay? Wait for me outside."

Then I splashed cold water on my face to cool me back down, although my eyes appeared huge and dark in the mirror, my face pale, and my hair a tumble of mess. I kind of looked a little shocked, but the light in there was a funny color, and outside would be less glaring and I could probably pass for okay. I'd wet my hair with the splashing, but they didn't have an air-dryer, so there was nothing I could do about it.

Edward was waiting outside the restroom for me, hands in pockets, leaning against the wall, and he looked relieved when I emerged.

"Well, that's an improvement. You don't have that just-hurled look any more," he said, and I sincerely hoped it was true. The bathroom mirror had shown me a ghoul, but apparently not one that had been throwing up not ten minutes earlier.

I tucked my hand through Edward's with a little self-conscious laugh, and we headed on out of there.

A block away there was a diner, and he steered me in. I was still a bit tender in the stomach region actually, but there was a bit of quiet internal rumbling going on down there, letting me know he was quite right that I needed to eat something.

I reckoned a plate of fries would fit the bill nicely, and ordered one. Now, it's generally thought there are two types of people in this world - those who like ketchup on their fries, and those who are more adventurous. I fall into the second category, and my favorite dipping sauce is alioli if I can get it, otherwise mayonnaise. When I asked for the mayonnaise, Edward looked appalled.

"You'll be sick again," he grimaced. "I may not be willing to help you out again this time, when I know what's caused it." I waved a couple of fries under his nose to entice him, but he wouldn't have anything to do with them.

"I like you, Cullen. You're no bullshit, you know that? You're not full of dumb compliments, trying to pick me up. You're nice." I told him. Nice enough not to run away screaming when I couldn't hold my drink. Nice enough to take me out to really cool places when he didn't even like me. Nice enough to put up with such a silly girl.

I couldn't really understand it all, but hey, if he wanted to be friends and I hadn't managed to put him off yet, despite everything, things were good.

"Home now, Cinderella?" he asked, and I smiled like a fucking idiot, because Cinderella gets her man. He comes looking for her, he turns down all the other girls in the kingdom, and eventually he's hers, after a bit of fumbling with a shoe. I could always drop a shoe and see what happened. What would probably happen is that I would break my ankle hobbling, knowing me.

We caught a cab, and when he let me out at my place I kissed him on the cheek, just for the thrill of it. He hadn't shaved, presumably not expecting anyone to kiss him and his stubble was the tiniest bit rough under my lips, and very exciting.

Pathetic crush-victim that I am, that little touch of my mouth to his skin sustained me through until Monday, when I saw him again. His sister is endlessly cool, and I made my way over to their table at lunch, and sat with both of them.

Edward was in a mood I'd never seen him in before, and he was talkative and very funny, yakking like he'd memorized a joke book and composed a stand-up comedy routine. He was _never_ like this in biology, and he hadn't been like this on Saturday night. Even his sister looked a little bemused by it, and I couldn't stop laughing. I was feeling so good I asked him out.

"I promise I'll eat first. Why don't we have dinner together?" I asked, all in a rush, caution thrown to the four winds and beyond.

_Meanwhile I try to act so nonchalant_

And to my delight, he said yes. We went for dinner, me and my platonic guy friend, and we went to a party, and the next week I asked him out again, and we platonicked again, and we were just like a regular pla-fucking-tonic couple. Concerts, films, ice-skating, picnics, you name it. He seemed perfectly happy to be acting like he had a mangina, and to trail along with me, and I found it increasingly frustrating. What was _wrong _with him? What was wrong with _me_? Was I so horrible? We'd go along wherever it was, and he didn't seem to want me to hang around with him. He'd actually just stand there while I talked to other people and he wouldn't participate, or he'd wander off and act like he wasn't with me. Even so, we'd gravitate back to one another, inevitably. Didn't he wonder at the pull that wouldn't allow us to be apart? It all seemed obvious to me, but then I was the one with the giant-sized crush. I'd drift back to his side, wherever we were, acting friendly and just standing close enough to make the hairs on my forearms stand up straight. I'd be furiously casual, chatting away like a moron to all these other people when all I wanted was to be alone with him, and then we'd leave. I'd be alone with him in the cloud for about twenty short minutes, and he'd drop me home.

I made the most of those minutes. I told him everything, I couldn't help it. I'd get nervous and blab about whatever came to mind - I even told him when I was expecting my period! Just so he'd know I was only going to be shitty for three days, and it wasn't his fault. Then I'd tell him when I got it, and exactly how I felt. God, my mouth. I'd forget the Girls' Code that says you don't reveal everything to boys, and I'd talk to him with no filter, and heaven knows what he thought of it all.

This went on for weeks. I started to think I was going to have to say something to him, or I was going to explode, and messily. Jake called and said he was having a party at First Beach, and that seemed as good a time as any to tell Edward I thought he was my soulmate, because if, or more likely _when_, he gave me a sad shake of the head and said, "I'm sorry Bella, but you're an idiot," I could go for a long swim. The Pacific would be very bracing at this time of year.

"Hey, Edward, my friend Jacob is having a party at the beach on Saturday night - shall we both go?" I asked him.

He didn't look at all keen. "Sure. Beach party. Sounds excellent, I'll bring my snorkel," he responded. Oh, great.

_I see a summer's night with a magic moon_

We got there, and Jake has all these mates and they're all as buff as he is, which is super buff. They treat me like an adored little sister, and they're much cooler than the boys at school. I kissed them all hello and we all sat around and joked and the sun went down and it was a gorgeous evening. Quite a few people turned up and there was a bonfire and music and I sat with Jacob and ate, and he'd remembered my mayonnaise fetish and brought me a little squeezy bottle. It was all easy and comfortable for a while there, under the pretty moon. I even had a beer. Edward sat brooding on the other side of the fire, and I sat with Jake and said, "Can I make a confession?"

"Sure, babes. Spill," he said, and put an arm around my shoulders, pulling me in so my mouth was right at his ear.

"There's someone I really like, and I don't know what to do about it," I admitted.

"Ah. Well, you have a couple of options. You do nothing, or you do something," he replied. "Who is it?"

"I can't tell you," I said. "But I'll give you a clue. He's here right now, and he's sitting opposite us."

Jake's gaze shifted over to Edward, who was watching us. I was aware of that weird tension between the two of them again, almost as though they were measuring each other.

"If he's the one you want, maybe you should just go tell him. But be subtle, huh Bells? Go easy. Us guys aren't as strong as we look, we're fragile on the inside. Oh, and if he hurts you... I'll be here," Jake said, and it seemed I had his approval, just like that. Even if he was a little wary about Edward, he was supporting me.

This was going to be scary. Everything about Edward's body language said he didn't want to be there, but the real question of course wasn't so much where he wanted to be, as who he wanted to be with. So, I stood up. I walked around the fire, over to where Edward sat cross-legged, light and shadows flickering over his cheeks and through his hair, and I said, "Hey, Edward, shall we go somewhere else?"

"Yeah - the tango bar?" he said immediately. I grabbed his arm before he could think twice and practically hauled him away.

We didn't talk in the car. I sat enveloped in luxury as we flew and he had the radio on playing something soft and classical and I couldn't stem my anxiety.

"He could have said no," I kept telling myself. "He would just take me home if he wanted to," and my internal monologue was really getting on my nerves, but at last we got there, and my inner voice had to shut up.

_Every time that you walk in the room_

This time the bar was much busier than last time. There were maybe thirty of forty people crowded in there and there was a lot of laughter and chattering and a general vibe of congeniality. To my surprise some older guy grabbed Edward in a bear hug and kissed him, and the Sophia Loren woman was there smiling at me and handing over some of that jewelled red stuff that had nearly killed me. At least I knew what it was now.

"Careful now," Edward said with a twinkle in his eye and I poked him in the ribs.

The old guy was clearly urging Edward about something, and Edward was pretending to hesitate, but I could see that whatever it was, he fully intended to capitulate. When he moved over to sit at the piano stool I thought it was just because he wanted to sit down, but he put his hands over the keys and started to hit some notes, and I couldn't believe my eyes. Or ears. He could really, _really_ play. A couple of the old timers pulled out some instruments and started playing along with him, and it was the sort of music I'd heard in here the other time - tango, I guess. It was dramatic and wild and stirring, and people started to clap and dance, and Sophia brought me some shaker things so that I could participate. God, it was all amazing.

Edward was getting flushed - the music was quite vigorous and he was moving as he played, his whole body keeping time. His hair flopped damply on his forehead and a sheen of perspiration appeared on his upper lip and I was wishing everyone would fade away so that I could go and lick him. I'd had a couple of cordials by then. Last time I'd drunk this stuff I'd been having very fond thoughts about him, too. What was it - a love elixir? This time the thoughts weren't just fond, they were more than a little lustful. His hands, hmm. His mouth, hmm.

The band stopped for a few minutes and he made his way over to me, grinning.

"How could you not happen to mention that you're a musical genius?" I hissed at him, and he was obviously really enjoying himself, he was in his element. He just shrugged happily.

"It never really came up. You didn't ask," he answered.

_Baby it's a dream come true_

_Walking right alongside of you_

_With I could tell you how much I care_

_But I only have the nerve to stare_

We spent another couple of hours there, Edward on the ivories, making all the oldies smile, and me on the love juice, heart dancing wildly to his tune. It was magical. I was having so much fun, and loving how much fun he was having.

But then it was starting to be really late, and he made his goodbyes, and went to pull me to the door. The couple who owned the place, who he had introduced as Pablo and Carmen, kissed me warmly and insisted that I come back soon. I thought wild horses wouldn't keep me away from that warm little den that felt like a pulsing heart.

Edward had had a few beers and we had to leave the cloud in town and look for a cab. That was fine, we wandered along in a mildly drunken haze and I kept sneaking looks at him. Lightning Bolt guy, with the talented fingers. I wondered if it was time to say something, but then I thought, "What if he puts me in my own cab so he doesn't have to listen?" and I decided to wait. I don't know what I was waiting for, but as long as I could surreptitiously stare during the waiting period it would be all right. He seemed engrossed in his own thoughts and didn't even notice the way I was eyeballing him.

The eyeballing didn't last long enough, though, because a cab came along and he flagged it. Nothing ever lasted long enough! I sat there close enough to feel choked, yet so far away from him the distance between us felt like an abyss. If I yelled my voice wouldn't reach him. If I stretched my arm as far as I could, it wouldn't cross the chasm. Damn. Too soon we were outside my house.

"Can I talk to you?" came a voice from nowhere, and it was mine. I hadn't even decided to speak.

"Yes?" he answered, making it a question.

"Will you come in?" I said, because I wanted him captive, and I wanted him on my territory. I was about to risk everything, and at least I could do it my own house.

"Is your Dad home?" he asked, following me out of the cab.

"Not until the morning."

How was I going to do this?

"Beer?" I asked, stalling.

_I can feel something pounding on my brain_

I popped him a beer and went and sat on the sofa. Ed-ward Cu-llen, Be-lla Swan was going through my head, creating a rhythm. What was that? Iambic tetrameter? With a caesura. Random much, girl?

"Um," I said, as he took a sip of beer. And, "Um," again. A very good beginning.

He looked a little puzzled. "Um," he said back to me.

I took the plunge. "Well, Edward, um. I haven't wanted a boyfriend. And you've been a lovely friend to me, and I really, really appreciate it. I don't want to muck things up between us. I know this is going to be unwelcome, but I'm just going to burst if I don't say anything. So I'm going to just put it out there, and then you can tell me I'm stupid, and then that'll ease the tension a bit, and then things will be fine, right?" I said, in a fine attack of wordspill.

_Every time that someone speaks your name_

I could see he didn't know what I was talking about. Perhaps I needed to be a bit more direct? I moved a bit nearer to him, the syllables still going repeating themselves in my head. Ed-ward Cu-llen, Be-lla Swan.

"The thing is, Edward. Um," I began again. When in doubt, repeat yourself using different words. It always works.

"What is the thing?" he asked, and I had to admit, he wasn't looking too cheerful.

"Um. Well, you're not like the others, you haven't been after me from day one and it's been a relief and I've grown to really trust you, and I feel so safe and happy with you and I guess I let my guard down and I've come to realize that you're exactly - well - " I faltered, feeling like a fool. My hair was in the way, as it usually is and I pulled at it distractedly, shuffling inelegantly along the sofa until I was practically on top of him. At least he hadn't tried to get away, he was looking a bit like a deer in headlights. He probably couldn't move.

I was ready to go for broke. "We get on so well, I love being with you and talking to you, and your sense of humor, and maybe this is all one-way, probably it is, but - " and there just wasn't anything left to say that wasn't re-phrasing what I'd already said. And I was so close to him I could feel his breath, his mouth was inches away, and I just _needed_ to know what it would feel like, what he would feel like. I was way too far gone to stop now, he blinked at me but stayed right where he was, and I just tipped my head to the side and leaned in and pressed my lips to his.

He sat back immediately.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I gasped, and that was it, I had my answer.

"What are you doing?" he asked and I could have crawled away and hidden and never come back back out. Breaking the bonds of platonic friendship was what I was doing. Ruining what we had together was what I was doing. Stabbing myself with futility and stupidity. All those things.

"I'm sorry," I said again, and I tried to shuffle away, but he took my shoulders. Maybe he wanted to shake some sense into me.

"What did you do that for?" he asked, and I dared a look up at him. What I saw wasn't what I expected to see. He didn't actually look mad, or horrified, or disgusted, or disappointed. He looked - what?

"I just - " I mumbled, and he was staring at me, and it wasn't with any negative expression at all. He looked a little hopeful. Oh god. His mouth was open, waiting, and I just leaned in again and his lips moved against me, kissing me. It was incredible. Soft, warm, wet and completely electrifying. I haven't done much kissing - only a couple of guys, and only at parties because I've never had an actual boyfriend. I didn't feel a moment's hesitation though, I just went with what felt good, and what felt good was my mouth against his, again and again. I'd draw back and he'd come after me, or I'd flick my tongue out into him, feeling daring and excited, exchanging hot breaths and breaking contact and seeking the wetness again, sliding on the soft pillows of his lips.

He stopped, and so did my heart.

"What are you doing?" he asked me again.

_Trumpets sound and I hear thunder boom_

I panicked momentarily. He felt really experienced. Maybe he wasn't liking it. Oh, fuck. Here I was, pouring everything into kissing him, and he was asking me what was going on. I had to tell him.

"I really like you," I whispered. "Is this okay? You have to tell me. You can't just kiss me back, and then maybe tomorrow act like nothing's happened. Please, Edward. This means something. Does it mean something?"

He was so still I could hear the blood rush in my ears. I could hear my heart, or the absence of its beat, at any rate. I was holding my breath, awaiting his reply.

"I love you," he said.

_What?_ Somewhere a orchestra of angels burst into the Hallelujah Chorus. My heart sprang back to life like a motorcycle being kickstarted. I nearly fell off the sofa with shock, and the hair that had so recently annoyed me came in very handy forming a screen between him and me when my mouth formed a silent scream of triumph.

_Every time that you walk in the room_

I wanted to take it in my stride, and not to simply fall apart. Love? We'd just kissed for the first time five seconds ago, and while I wanted to handcuff myself to him already, love was a very, very big word. There in the confines of my little house, in my living room, on my sofa, love was too big, too soon.

"Fuck, Edward, I just told you I like you. _Like_. Way to ruin the moment," I said, because I wanted to put the brakes on. I thought I loved him too, and I just wasn't ready to go there yet. If I admitted I loved him, we would be both be swept away by Freud's oceanic depths of feeling, we would be lost.

I composed my face just in time, because he took my chin and turned my face up to him. He was looking completely serious, a little worried, and in dire need of fifty million more kisses.

"_Like_," I said, wanting to be safe. "Can we use that as a starting point, and progress from there?"

I reached gently around his neck and pulled his head towards me, and met his mouth again with mine. He was very responsive, and it sure felt to me that there was a little more than 'like' going on between us. But like is a good starting point, and we'd progress from there.

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.

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I couldn't quite get the lyrics to always tie in the way I wanted, but there you go. Hope you like it!

_When You Walk In The Room by Jackie de Shannon_.


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